Almost Doesn't Count
by your rolling wheels
Summary: She almost felt guilty for closing her eyes so often, for pretending he was someone else the entire time. Not your typical fluff, if I do say so, myself. Jay/Ellie, T for content & language, read and review, please!
1. prologue

ALMOST DOESN'T COUNT

prologue: guilty?

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

Yes, this is indeed a Jay/Elle or 'Jallie' story, as they're being called. This takes place after Sean has left, as many others have, but I very much hope this might be a wee bit different, and that you'll all enjoy it to the max! Read and review, please and thanks.

- - -

She almost felt guilty.

She almost felt guilty for closing her eyes so often, for pretending he was someone else the entire time. Certainly it was not as though Jay was anything less than perfectly aware of what they were doing together, of why it was him she turned to; he reminded her of Sean in smell and in touch, if she closed her eyes. Beyond that, he was a willing and able body, someone who had rarely, if ever, attached meaning to sex before. It was not all on her shoulders if he was uncomfortable with an arrangement that she had never been anything but upfront about, though she couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt as she examined the slightly distant look on his face as she slipped her shirt over the flat, pale planes of her stomach, tugging it down at the waist.

"You've got somewhere to be?" he asked flatly, reclining on the bed as he placed one arm behind his head, the other draped lazily across his bare stomach. She didn't bother making eye contact, and he almost felt stupid for being irritated about that tiny detail. What did it matter if she couldn't look at him when she was unable to picture Sean, instead? He could make her into any girl he wanted her to be if he closed his eyes, the way she did. He simply chose not to, more apt to live in the moment than to drift.

"Um, yeah. I need to get home, it's getting late," she answered him with more than one vague and wishy-washy excuse. If she wasn't sure it was impossible, she would have guessed that she heard him sigh.

"Want me to walk you? It's already dark, y'know," he offered lamely, the same thing he offered her each and every time it was over. And, of course, she would answer in the same fashion she always did, as if they kept routine for the sake of continuity.

Standing up and pulling her black pants, the ones with all the straps and D rings, over her flush hips, she cast him a sidelong glance. It was moments like that which made her wonder if he truly knew and accepted what they were doing for what it really was, but they were moments that made her feel just a iota better, all the same, despite the fact that she had never and would never accept. Jay was not Sean, was not her boyfriend. He had no business walking her home, and definitely no business seeing the turmoil that was her home.

Pulling her long hair through a ponytail holder, she averted her gaze from his half naked form. "I can't. I don't know what might be going on at home… And it's just a bad idea," she shot him down, albeit not in the most gentle format. He wasn't some bleeding heart romantic type, and she knew he could take the truth. She simply didn't want to say it.

Fully dressed, she scanned the room for her keys, her eyes attracted by the jangling coming from Jay's direction. Around his finger, he swirled the key ring around before tossing it in her direction. she attempted a smile and he did the same, though it had been quite a while since this had all been amazing fun for him, since he could muster a genuine smile as she trailed that fantastic ass out the door.

He was no longer having one hundred percent fun, and he could scarcely pretend to be, even if he was clueless as to what had changed. It had just been sex, with Red and with every girl before her. But there was something else worming its way between them, something that he didn't like, something that he wasn't sure she saw. Unfortunately, it didn't matter what, if anything, either of them thought of what was happening, because it was.

It just so happened that neither of them was going to speak about it, in any way.

"See you tomorrow, Nash?" he asked, almost hopefully.

"Mm, yeah. Probably," she answered, slinging her messenger bag purse over her shoulder as she tried to worm her way out of the increasingly awkward situation. She didn't want to hurt Jay; she knew he was a person, a _real_ person with legitimate feelings, but she also knew that those feelings were not for her. She was his substitute for any random girl he might've had at his beck and call, and he was her substitute for Sean. It was as simple as that.

Wasn't it?


	2. save me?

ALMOST DOESN'T COUNT

Chapter One: Save Me?

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**  
There are some slight canon changes in this chapter. Ellie did not stay in the apartment after Sean left, instead giving the lease over to Jay. Her mother still drinks, and obviously, that doesn't turn out well. I'd love some reviews please, whether you love or hate the story!

- - -

That same night had been the worst it had ever been in her life when she returned home. So bad that it made her wonder why she'd left Jay's so quickly, why she'd given him the apartment, in the first place.

She'd arrived home to the house she shared with her mother, smelling pungently of Jay's skin and scent – it was this metallic, oil scent combined with the potent tang of his aftershave – and of the distinctly different smell of sex. She was positive that even on a good day, her mother wouldn't be so astute as to pick up on a damned thing. She was grateful for this, however; the last thing she needed was to be on the receiving end of twenty questions about the level of safety she and her partner were practicing.

That was the last of her worries, however, as she soon discovered upon opening the door.

There had been bottles and broken glass strewn throughout the house like the aftermath of some twisted piñata busting. The glass was made up of the frames of family photos, smashed dinner china, broken vodka bottles, and things Ellie couldn't begin to identify from the wreckage. It had been everywhere, making her glad that she hadn't taken off her shoes at the door. Walking barefoot in the house anywhere between the front entrance of the home and her mother's bedroom was a physical impossibility for all the glass one would find there.

She'd pressed the door shut quietly and tiptoed to her mother's room, the crunch of the glass under her feet the only sound piercing the silence. She tried not to notice that every picture containing her father, her mother, and herself had been tossed to the ground and presumably stepped on, several times each, as she walked down the hall towards the small back bedroom where she knew she would find her mother. Her assumption was correct, and the moment she entered the door, she immediately regretted having gone in search of the woman in the first place.

"M-mom?" she questioned timidly, her voice seeming much too small to really belong to her. Her mother looked up, eyes bleary and gone from the moment at hand as they landed on her daughter. The woman sneered.

"Where've you been, Eleanor?" she shouted angrily, staggering towards Ellie at the only wobbly pace the drunken woman could muster.

"O-out, with Ashley," she lied easily. Lying came like second nature her mother was concerned, if only because she no longer had the presence of mind to distinguish between what was true and what was not.

"Don't you lie to me," her mother accused angrily, still coming closer. Eventually, she was close enough so that the vodka on her breath pervaded Ellie's senses, causing the red head to cringe away. "You were out with that boy. That Sean. Filthy lying little whore," she continued, each word a slur and a knife in Ellie's heart.

A knife. _Metal_. Sean. Sliced skin. _Crying_. Bleeding. Release. _Jay_?

She wasn't sure where the latter thought crept in from; the others were about what they always were when stress snuck up on her – cutting. It was something she was not over, something she wasn't sure she would ever be over, but something she had not done in quite a few weeks. That night, however, was pivotal, and could change absolutely everything in that respect. Jay, however, was an interesting and new addition to the thought patterns. She didn't have time to analyze.

"Speak when you're spoken to," her mother yelled, grabbing Ellie's wrist tightly in the grasp of her own hand. Immediately, she was pulled from her reverie. Wrenching away, or attempting to, she backed against the wall.

"Don't touch me," Ellie instructed firmly, pulling back again. Metal. _Cutting_. Jay. Like a mantra, again and again. Her eyes filled with tears as her mother refused to let go of her. "Don't you ever touch me…"

"You'll keep a civil tongue in your mouth," her mother shouted, her flattened palm coming to contact with the pale, flat planes of Ellie's cheek. Immediately, all thoughts of cutting, all thoughts of that release faded. Her tears ceased in their tracks, and everything seemed to stand absolutely still with the single moment of the impact. Her mother's hand pulled back, leaving a stinging imprint in her wake, and leaving Ellie positively stunned. "That's better," the woman commented, sneering

Her mother had never once laid a hand on her. She couldn't even process the images of cutting, nor of Jay. All she could think about at that point was escaping. As her mother backed away from her and towards the bed, Ellie retreated from the room, running up the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her. Her mind shifted over to primal survival mode, immediately packing a bag full of anything she might need. Clothes, underwear, the box that contained her recently retired razors. Everything. It happened so fast that she was sure she was forgetting something, but there was just no time to think on it. Her mother would only allot so much time out of the spotlight of her watchful eye, and Ellie knew she had to get out, at that moment.

As soon as the essentials were in her messenger bag, she was out her second story window and scaling down the awning below it. It was easy for her, something she'd done on more than one occasion, either for escape or for the thrill of sneaking out. Either way, she was down and on stable ground in a few seconds flat, and then there was nothing but running. Where to, she had no idea, but she knew she had to get far away from her home, away from her mother, just away.

But eventually, when her lungs burned from running, when her body refused to go another inch, and when she found herself at the locale playground, she knew she had to stop. She was safe from her mother, though she was alone in the dark. The latter didn't matter so much, so long as she was away from the hellhole known as home. Of course, that bravado and swagger was short lived, and eventually, the cold night began to settle around her. Shaking and crying, she did the one thing she didn't want to do – she pulled her cell phone from her pocket, and made the decision to call someone.

She didn't have Sean, anymore. None of her girlfriends would understand. Craig wasn't an option. There were so few people she felt could relate to that level of dysfunction that she could open up to them fully, or even be so bold as to ask them for help. Until she reached the J's in her phone directory. Jay…

She didn't want to call him, didn't want to seem as though she was using him for sex and convenience, although that was the Gospel truth. If there was one person she knew understood dysfunction, and yet one person she did not want to see her weak, it was Jay. Still, there didn't seem to be anyone else available, anyone else in the whole world who could help her at the moment. Sighing in frustration, she began punching in the numbers, listening as the dial tone rang on forever. Her breath caught in her throat when his raspy voice filled the line.

"Round two already, Red?" he asked, ever cocky, though he did not sound altogether pleased. Ellie couldn't manage a response for a moment, willing herself not to burst into tears at the premise of asking for help. "Well, what is it? Where are you?"

"Miller Park. A-are you busy?" she finally croaked out, her cheeks blushing bright from even asking such a simple question. He groaned in frustration on the other line.

"Sort of out with a business associate at the moment, Nash," he said shortly, effectively shattering her heart with that simple rejection. Not because she wanted to see him so badly, but because she needed someone, and she'd been stupid enough to think she could ask Jay to be that, if only for a place to stay, or a ride somewhere else. She couldn't hold back the slight whimper that escaped her lips.

"What the hell's going on, El?" he asked, evidently picking up on the slight noise and sounding serious.

"I just… I need you here, Jay, please," she said softly, hopefully appealing to something a little more affectionate than he would let on. She didn't enjoy using that word, need. It made her feel weak, and yet it was the truth. She needed something or someone to help her, and it just happened that there was no one and nothing else to cling to, aside from Jay. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she _did _need him to come through for her, this once.

"I'll see what I can do," he murmured vaguely, not giving her a yes or no answer before hanging up the line and leaving Ellie to wonder whether or not she'd be stranded there, for all of time, and leaving him to wonder if he really had any obligation to go rescue the redheaded princess, this time.


	3. the meantime

ALMOST DOESN'T COUNT

Chapter Two: The Meantime

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**  
There are some slight canon changes in this chapter. Ellie did not stay in the apartment after Sean left, instead giving the lease over to Jay. Her mother still drinks, and obviously, that doesn't turn out well. I'd love some reviews please, whether you love or hate the story!

Thanks so much for the reviews, Nightcrawlerlover and KT the Shimmer Skank. You guys are truly awesome!

- - -

She waited in the cold dark for close to an hour.

She had decided quite a long time before she heard the dry rumble of his engine that she was being forgotten. She had no hopes of him coming after a certain point in time, his parting words not having been the most promising. 'I'll see what I can do' wasn't what she'd been looking for, although she hadn't for a moment forgotten who she'd called. He was Jay Hogart, not Sean Cameron. They were having sex, they were not in love. There was such a world of difference that Ellie felt almost stupid for ever having called him in the first place. Just when she had opened her phone, thinking of dialing someone else, a black car pulled up at the mouth of the playground.

Jay leaned towards the passenger side, opening the door with an irritated look on his face. "So, you coming or you feel like staying here, all night?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

If she hadn't known better, she would have thought she was actually excited to see Jay, from the relieved pace her heart resumed. Collecting her messenger bag, she made a hasty exit off the playground and bounded towards his car. Without further prompting, she slid into the passenger seat, almost forgetting to be surprised as he reached across her and shut the door, pausing with his face close to her as if anticipating something.

She didn't move, nor did she even look at him. He pulled back with a noise of surprise as the light caught her face.

"Jesus, Ellie, what happened?" he asked, using her full name out of the shock of finally registering the havoc that was her face. Her eyes were puffy and red, a fading handprint plastered across her cheek. All in all, Eleanor Nash looked like a mess at the moment, and he could scarcely believe it was him that she had come to in that condition. After all, he was no Sean, was he? He wasn't worthy of being called for anything other than a little fun between the sheets, or, apparently, a ride to wherever it was she needed to go, as messed up as she currently looked.

"Nothing… It's just, my mom. She was drinking," she said, as though it explained everything. And it did, in her situation, as she felt a little incapable of saying anything more without bursting into tears, once more. It was likely a good thing for both of them that she didn't elaborate much further, to keep her from crying, and to keep him from saying anything that he would regret pouring out later. The last thing he needed was to go all sappy on Nash and make any more mistakes involving attachment.

"Where to, sweetheart?" he asked dryly, that being the most wit that he could muster under the given circumstances. There was really nothing to joke about between them in the car that evening, but she appreciated his attempt at lightening the mood, anyway. It gave her a moment to think over what and how she was going to ask him, which were both difficult decisions, in their own light.

"I don't have anywhere to go," she mumbled, pulling a thread that hung off of her bag, attempting to avoid eye contact with Jay, at that moment. "I was wondering if I could crash with you. Well, not with you – with you, but at your place. If you don't have company, that is..."

What if there was another girl, and that had been the reason he could not immediately commit to rescuing her?

Fortunately for her over active imagination, there was not. He had already told the 'business associate', a girl that he had been tooling around in the car in an attempt to get her back to the apartment, that he had business to attend to and dropped her off at her house. He'd gotten rid of her long before anything had progressed near where he wanted it all to go, and he'd be a damned liar if he said anything but Ellie's phone call had caused that. He would normally never give up a girl he knew without a shadow of a doubt would put out in favor of a girl crying on the telephone, but she'd had to go and use that one damned word – need. She needed him, and she'd said it in no uncertain terms. The fact that those words changed something about the situation made him a little nauseous, but there was little he could do about it then, when she was in his car, beaten, and practically begging to spend the night with him.

"Please Jay," she echoed her earlier sentiment, her soft tone seeping past his exterior.

He didn't say anything, but drove in the direction of his house, a seemingly reasonable enough 'yes' that it made Ellie's worries quiet considerably. It didn't take away everything – the urge to cut, the feeling of slight abandonment by Sean, the pain at what had happened with her mother – but it seemed to smooth it all around the edges somehow. And who even know Jay had the power to do so? She'd never been so comforted by him before unless both sets of their clothes were lying in puddles on the floor, and even then, it was a comfort not unlike making believe, pretending Sean was still there and that he still cared enough to touch her.

But he didn't. He didn't care enough to be there to touch her, didn't care enough to stick around and make sure that it was him sitting in the driver's seat of the car, not Jay. He'd known what her mother was like, and yet, he'd conveniently exited stage left, anyway, leaving Ellie with nothing and no one to help her deal. It was a miracle that she'd been able to stop cutting, but for the most part, she didn't feel the need until that night. And there was no hope of getting to her razors right then, a guilty pleasure that, if it was going to happen, would have to wait until Jay disappeared for the night.

Eventually, her inner thoughts were interrupted as the engine shut off and she realized where they were. They'd arrived at the apartment that had once belonged to Sean, then to Ellie and Sean, then just to Ellie, and now, most obviously, to Jay. It held many memories from each particular owner, but at the moment, Ellie was too tired and too worn thin to get overly caught up in the nostalgia of it all. The furthest she could get was forcing herself out of the car and reminding her feet to move as they made their way into the doorway of the place she'd left, hours ago.

"I trust you won't need a tour," Jay mumbled, flipping on the lights in the small apartment. If he wasn't covering things up with humor, he wasn't dealing with them at all. It was a fatal personality flaw, but one didn't have to be sleeping with Jay to know that he had a difficult time taking things even the slightest bit seriously. He was trying in that instance, however, looking at Ellie's overall beaten down appearance.

"No, but thanks," she replied quietly, setting her messenger bag down by the door. As much as she had wanted Jay's help, she suddenly didn't want to be around him in her current state. She was a mess if he'd ever seen one, and the idea made her uncomfortable, although she couldn't place why. Most of all, that monster, the clawing voice that urged her to cut, was back again, slinking up her spine to whisper in her ear. All she had to do was make an exit, get away from Jay for _five _minutes, and she could feel the white hot release of the blade against her skin. It would be enough. Jay could never be enough. Only that could ever be enough…

"I need to shower, okay? I'll be out in ten," she said, her voice still but panicked, as she scooped up her bag and made her way to the bathroom, fighting tears. She didn't want to do what she had already made up her mind to do, but she _needed _to do it, and fast. If she could possibly have indulged herself in Jay physically and gotten nearly the same high, she would have done it in two seconds flat. But as she had already realized, there was no way he or anything else could ever be enough. There was only one choice.

Starting the shower for cover noise, she began unpacking her messenger bag, finding the box within and lining up her tools ritualistically. Razor blades, alcohol pads, band aids. They all went into an almost perfectly straight line on the counter next to the toilet, where she folded down the lid and sat. The shower began to steam up the room and the heat only increased her panic somehow, her fingers twitching to get the metal back on her skin. She took a steadying breath; this was not something to be rushed. It was something to be savored.

She pulled up her right sleeve, introducing to the light a crisscross pattern of lacy scars from the past. Some were straight, others jagged, and some even looked as though they were patterned to look the way they did on purpose. She drew in a sharp breath as the grasped the razorblade firmly in her other hand, poised to make a new line amongst the old. Just once more, just to not feel the way she currently did. Just _one _cut.

She tested the edge of the blade, pressing the corner into her porcelain forearm. It drew a little bead of crimson blood to the surface, the tiniest bubble. Still sharp. There was a certain feeling within her stomach she waited for, a click that would come and urge her on, tell her it was time.

The only click she heard or felt was the click of the door she'd forgotten to lock as the knob twisted it open.

_Damn it._


	4. love like winter

ALMOST DOESN'T COUNT

Chapter Three: Love Like Winter

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**  
There are some slight canon changes in this chapter. Ellie did not stay in the apartment after Sean left, instead giving the lease over to Jay. Her mother still drinks, and obviously, that doesn't turn out well. I'd love some reviews please, whether you love or hate the story!

Thanks so much for the reviews, Nightcrawlerlover and Qwerty101. As usual, you guys are the stuff awesome is made out of, and I'm so glad you're enjoying.

- - -

The door pressed open, and Ellie was as a deer in the headlights.

She tried to yell for Jay to wait, to warn him that perhaps she was naked, but she expected it would only be met with a comment about how he'd seen it all before. Besides, he expected her to be in the shower, not sitting on the lid of the toilet with a razorblade in hand.

Jay's voice cut through her stunned silence. "Incoming, El. Just wanted to bring you some…"

And of course, she knew why he stopped. In the doorway with an arm full of towels, Jay stood, staring at her with wide eyes. Her hands resumed trembling and she dropped the razor against the linoleum tiles beneath her feet. A fire of embarrassment and fear ran through her body, and her mind began jumping to wild conclusions. He would hate her. He would never touch her again. He would tell her to leave. He had seen too much to think of Ellie as anything but a freak now, even if he'd seen the scars from before.

Of course, that was merely her take on his thoughts, not the actual things running through his head. He simply couldn't process what was going on in front of him; Ellie was sitting there, a fat drop of blood bubbling on her arm, a razor in her hand. She may have dropped it, but it was still obvious what was going on in his bathroom, when all he had meant to do was bring her a couple towels. Laundry day was practically like leap year in his apartment, and there was nothing even resembling a clean towel in the bathroom, at the moment. It was a common kindness thing, and needless to say, he had not intended to walk in on what he had.

"What the hell's going on, Ellie?" he asked, his voice brooking no room for jokes, at the moment. She almost wished he would say something humorous, something to help her imagine the clock had been rewound a few measly seconds. That was all she needed, all the was clinging to, as the unbelievably powerful urge to go ahead with it, to do it deeper than she had in the past, overtook her. Her full lips hung slack as she guppied, looking for some sort of excuse that might be just on the tip of her tongue, but finding none.

He stared at her for a long moment, and for a split second, she actually thought he might turn around and go back where he'd come from. Wishful thinking, of course, but it would have made things infinitely better in Ellie's mind. She had no such luck, however, and immediately, she felt Jay's hand curl gently but firmly around her upper arm, guiding her up from where she was sitting. "Out. C'mon, you're not staying in here," he ordered seriously, pulling her towards the door of the bathroom.

That was it, she was sure. He was going to throw her out, tell her freakish ass to find somewhere else to stay, someone else to take care of her.

She pulled away from him slightly, her green eyes wide with fear. "Jay, please, I don't have anywhere else to go," she pleaded with him, hoping to reason with him, just a little. He couldn't possibly throw her out at half past ten, into the cold, with no one else to turn to… Could he? Logically, he could do whatever he wanted. She was the one who had labeled them no strings attached, making it abundantly clear that neither of them was obligated to the other in any shape, form, or fashion. If he wanted to do so, he could throw her out on the spot without a second glance.

To her surprise, she found he wasn't leading her towards the door, but towards the bedroom. He took her towards the bed, sitting down next to her and holding her slightly injured arm up to the light. Unsurprisingly, his reaction was one of disgust. She was used to that, and it scarcely offended her when she got such a reaction. His blue eyes turned on hers, narrow and confused as they bore into hers. "Why would you do this? Do you miss him that bad?" he asked, running his thumb over a raised but healed scar. She shivered in reaction, but neither of them seemed inclined to talk about that detail at the moment.

In his mind, that was the only feasible answer. He was trying – trying much harder than he normally would have cared to try – and it would still never measure up to what Sean could do with the bat of an eyelash. He would never be anything more than a temporary replacement for the dimwit in her mind, and at one point, he'd been fine with it. After all, Red was smoking hot, and more than willing to climb into bed with him. It hadn't bothered him at first, the way she closed her eyes the entire time, or that once or twice she actually called him Sean. It hadn't mattered because she hadn't mattered, at the time. And then something changed; Jay, as Ellie had recently considered, was a person, and like everyone else, he liked to feel as though he mattered. He didn't want to be just a carbon copy of someone else, appreciated only for the similarities he bore to that someone.

He couldn't even stop her from wanting to hurt herself while he was around, no matter how hard he tried to be a decent human being towards her, to help her.

"It's not about Sean… At least not _all _about him," she murmured in her defense, pulling her arm back gently and tugging down her sleeve. The tiny cut she'd made wouldn't make a difference against the long sleeved black fabric, though she checked it self consciously more than once. She didn't meant to make Jay feel that way, though he was partially correct in his assumption that yes, she did miss Sean that bad. Even if he had been there, however, Ellie couldn't swear she'd have resisted the urge to cut.

"You could've just stayed at home if this is the kind of help you wanted," he shot back, clearly frustrated, as he distanced himself from her on his bed. He was frustrated, this Ellie could see, but she couldn't understand it. She wasn't asking him to care about her, to fix her problems, or to even be a Sean stand in at the moment. She was merely asking him to lend her a couch, a place to sleep. That was where it ended, in her mind.

"I just wanted a place to sleep. You don't have to help me more than that," she defended herself lamely. Honestly, there was nothing else from him she could ask without venturing into a territory she felt uncomfortable going into. Jay's role in their relationship, if one could call it that, was abundantly clear, and she wasn't going to ask him to go beyond the parameters they'd set up.

"You know what? Just have the bed. I'll be on the couch if you start getting all misty eyed for your little boyfriend," he said, standing up and shaking his head. He'd only thrown that out there because it was what he was convinced, at the moment, he represented to her. Sex and a Sean substitute, since the prick hadn't cared enough about what he was leaving behind to stick it out. Of course, he wasn't sure where he got wrapped up in the Sean/Ellie epic melodrama, but he'd somehow become her source of comfort, and her his source of affection. It was extremely fucked up, but there wasn't much he could do to go back on the arrangement they'd fallen into.

"Would you just calm down?" Ellie asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she reached out and caught his sleeve in her small fist. He heaved a frustrated sigh and tugged away from her, crossing his arms though he remained glued to the spot in the room.

"I just don't know what you want," he finally said, his voice near a shout. Ellie shrunk back out of fear, though she knew Jay wasn't the type to hit women under any circumstances. One could really only blame that from her previous bad experiences with shouting people, that evening. He continued, despite her fearful reaction. "I'm just your fuck buddy, I get that. I'm not Sean, I'm not your boyfriend, I'm practically nothing but my dick. But I put Allison Kippling out of the car to come pick you up, and you run off to my bathroom to do this" – he indicated her arm with a wave of his hand – "without so much as a 'thank you, Jay', or even trying to talk at all. It's just a little bit messed up, El."

It finally dawned on her; she was actually getting beneath Jay's skin, digging at him in a way she'd figured was improbable, if not impossible to do. It didn't take a genius to figure out what it meant to throw Allison Kippling, a notoriously easy but quite stunning girl most people around the town knew, out of one's car. The idea that Jay had dropped her so quickly to help her baffled Ellie more than she could describe, at the moment.

"You did that for me? Why?" she asked, confused by the act of kindness from someone with such a reputation for breaking hearts and having very little remorse about doing so. He didn't seem like the kind of person to automatically come to her beck and call simply because she'd needed him to.

"Yeah, I did," he admitted begrudgingly. It hadn't been an easy decision, but the moment the manipulative little redhead started mumbling about needing him, he was melted, and he was pretty positive she realized it.

"But as for why? I'm starting to wonder myself, Red," he quipped, turning to walk out of the room. He honestly didn't know what had come over him, canceling what would have been a perfectly good lay to try and make any leeway with the girl who he knew for a fact would only ever look at him as a watered down version of Sean. With that, he turned to walk out of the room, unable to really throw himself into the conversation at hand, anymore, especially when it made no difference, in the first place.


	5. skepticism

ALMOST DOESN'T COUNT

Chapter Four: Skepticism

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**  
Well, KT the Shimmer Skank had it down when she said that reviews would come in on their own, and I definitely appreciate each and every single one of you. I know this story is being churned out fast, but I've been a bit home bound the last few days (I've been fairly sick) and I have this weird tendency to lose my muse if I don't whack it over the head and throw it in a cage when it comes around. Plus, there's lots of story to tell, and so far, we haven't even made it through one night. The reasoning behind this is because it's a fairly epic night, and putting it all in one chapter felt a little cheap, to me.

Once more, thank everyone so much for the reviews, especially HELENz and Enigma493 for the last chapter. Cookies for you!

- - -

He had left the room in a hurry, but Ellie was a tenacious girl, and she couldn't allow things to end where they had. After all, her intention had never been to hurt Jay; really, it hadn't. She had only wanted… Well, whatever she wanted at the time. Feelings were not meant to get in the way, and she was positive that she'd found that guarantee in Jay. He'd done quite a lot for her, although she hadn't realized she'd been asking it all of him, at the time. It had just been sex. Simple, enjoyable, yet slightly wrong sex. And somewhere along the way, she'd managed to hurt Jay's feelings, accomplish the impossible, though she couldn't view it as an accomplishment in the slightest.

In fact, she felt guilty. Not almost guilty, this time – completely and utterly guilty, though she couldn't decide what for.

"Jay," she murmured, pulling herself up off the bed and following him to the living room. She was always one to invite trouble, it seemed, and that night was likely not going to shape up to be a big change in her life, in that respect. "I'm sorry," she added, finally catching up with him, though the apology sounded something less than genuine even to her ears.

"Your apology gets me right here, freckles," he shot back sarcastically, making a fist over his heart before rolling his eyes and lighting up a cigarette as he sat down on the couch. It was his only resort, seeing as how drinking at that precise moment and in his current company seemed like it would've been a bigger slap in the fact than he was totally willing to deliver.

She frowned deeply but continued into the room and perched on the other end of the couch. It was an awkward conversation, yes, but the pair had at one point had sex – there was not much that could make Ellie uncomfortable around him, despite the circumstances. Or at least, not much that could make her uncomfortable enough to walk away from him. "Can't you just listen to me for one minute?" she asked impatiently, wanting just a half a chance to explain herself, though she had no idea what she'd say.

"Can't _you _just go to bed?" he replied in turn, sarcasm boiling to surface in true Jay style.

"I didn't call you just to come over and fight with you," she mumbled, pulling her long sleeves over her fingertips and running a hand through her long, red hair. The conversation was devolving into short answers and almost no attempt at conversation.

"Funny, 'cos not two second ago you said all you wanted was a place to say. And you've got that, so I don't know what else you're getting out of this," he replied, taking a drag off of the cigarette and stretching his legs out onto the coffee table in front of them. Honestly, Ellie herself wasn't sure what else she wanted from Jay, that night. She was in no mood to get between the sheets, no mood to fight… She was clueless as to what she was hoping for, at that moment, aside from possibly loosening the hold his blackened outlook had on him.

"And I don't know what _you're_ getting out of attacking me. I'm sorry about what I was doing, I really am. But it wasn't because of you," she told him, words soft and truthful. There was nothing Jay could have done to change her mind about cutting that night, aside from bursting in and making her feel guilty before she got a chance to do it. Aside from what he had done, there was no grand preventative measure he could have taken, whether he pulled Sean and the answer for world peace out of a hat, or not.

But that was the problem – it wasn't over him. There was nothing he could do to make her happy, no matter how thoroughly he appreciated every rolling curve of her body, or how selfless the act of kicking a hot, easy lay out of his car for her seemed to him. There was nothing he could do in order to seem like anything more than an easy lay himself in her eyes.

"You were good about asking for my help when you called me out of the blue, and I seem to fix all your other problems pretty well," he told her with mild aggravation coloring his tone. Whenever she needed someone to take her there, to make her forget how badly she missed him, how much she hated her mother, how hard it was not to cut, she always seemed to find that within the confines of his bed. Granted, she always ran off afterwards, citing some lame excuse that would give her an out as quickly as possible, but for however long they were together in that capacity, she seemed to be pretty happy, to him.

"This isn't _that _kind of problem, Jay," she explained, as though the simplicity and vagueness of that statement should've been overlooked, entirely. It simply wasn't the kind of problem that could be forgotten in Jay's bedroom. Teeth, tongues, lips, and hands were not going to make her more comfortable that evening, no matter how inviting they normally were.

"Then what kind of problem is it?" he accused, narrowing his blue eyes at her. His gaze had a funny way of making her feel as though she were lower than dirt for the way she'd been acting, though she was positive it was just his itch for drama. There was very little chance that Jay actually harbored any real resentment over the fact that she wasn't fawning over him simply because he was an astute lover. "You could've called Ashley, or Marco, or anyone else. But you called me. And then you say I'm not good enough to help you?"

"I never said you weren't good enough for anything," she shouted, frustrated by having those words shoved so ungracefully into her mouth. She'd never once told him that he wasn't goo enough. Up until that evening, she hadn't even realized she'd implied it.

"I got expelled from school, I didn't flunk it. I can ready between the lines," he reminded her, his tone pouty and defensive, as though she'd insulted him, again. It was almost amusing that she could dig so deeply at him without the slightest trace of malice or venom in her voice, or even saying anything at all.

"Then read between these ones," she grumbled immaturely, holding up her ring, index, and middle finger pressed together. It wasn't the most adult move, but there wasn't much else she could really reply to his commentary with. He didn't seem nearly as amused as she'd thought he might be, and it made her frown. Maybe she didn't care about him in that way, but she did care that he wasn't slipping into some routine of self pity and clinical depression.

She sighed. "You're good enough, Jay. As good as anyone else. I just don't want to talk about it," she elaborated, feeling a bit bad at the pout that was etched onto his lips. He looked like an overgrown, rugged five year old with a five o'clock shadow and a cigarette hanging between his lips, and it was something Ellie had a hard time looking on at with a hard jaw.

He looked at her suspiciously, though the corner of his lip quirked up slightly. Just enough to decorate the corner of his mouth with a dimple as he regarded her. She truly was a sight, wasn't she? Even with the dark eyeliner streaked under her eyes from crying, he couldn't deny that he would happily drag her off to bed without a complain, that moment. Or possibly just hold her, though he had no idea where that left of field sentimental bullshit came from.

His smile faded just a little; he still didn't believe that he was as good as absolutely anyone – because this category included Sean. He wanted to accept it as a small victory, even if Red was only saying it to get him off of her back and get a place to crash, for the moment. But it was much too difficult to just accept that for what it was.

"Care to prove it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back and extinguished the cigarette he'd been smoking.


	6. misnomer

ALMOST DOESN'T COUNT

Chapter Five: Misnomer

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

All my reviewers are made out of such love. Seriously, I had my doubts about how many people would be reviewing, but I appreciate each and every single one of you, and it totally keeps me jazzed to write about these two. Not that they aren't adorable enough to keep me jazzed on their own, but you guys totally help!

- - -

**FROM LAST CHAPTER:**  
"_Care to prove it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back and extinguished the cigarette he'd been smoking._

Ellie's stomach trembled slightly, knotting as the dangerous words left Jay's mouth. Threats and challenges were deadly weapons in his arsenal, and she knew him to be the kind of guy who wouldn't be above putting her in a compromising position, even during her time of vulnerability. It was something he was known for, something she couldn't put past him.

"W-what do you mean?" she asked warily, unsure if she should've even ventured down that territory in the first place. Judging by the smirk that grew across his lips, she was completely positive the answer to her wondering was a resounding 'no'.

There was always a catch with Jay if he felt as though he was in control, which it was evident he currently did. When he felt Ellie had the upper hand, as he had just after their romp in his bed that afternoon, he was typically a little more defeated than his current bravado would allow anyone peering in on the two to believe. At that precise moment, however, he knew exactly where everyone in the situation stood, Ellie depending on him for a place to sleep, and more than that, in some ways.

"I'm as good as _any_one else?" he repeated, quirking a brow as an almost criminal smirk stole across his lips. The only thing she could do at the moment was nod lamely in response, a little perplexed by the prominent challenge that colored his tone at the moment. She was thinking that it was likely time to back out, to retire to the bedroom and take the advice even he'd given her, to just go.

"Then come n'show me, Nash. Kiss me, like you mean it," he challenged, his voice slightly more darkened and husky than it had been, before. It only tightened the coiling in her stomach, maddened her nerves into even more of a frenzy, and if she had only been toying with the idea that it was time to run screaming from the situation about to unfold, she now knew without a doubt that it was true. And yet, she remained planted where she was, until Jay's voice broke her stillness. "I'm waiting."

It was as if she was being moved by some unseen force when she unsteadily slipped off the arm of the couch, taking a seat close to him. Maybe she merely didn't want to see the sadness or the anger in his blue eyes, or that pout on his lip. Maybe it was because she needed the physical contact. Maybe it was because she felt like she owed him a little. Whatever her reasoning, and however fast her heart was beating, she'd moved closer to him. They'd done much more than kiss, and she couldn't say why this felt any different or how she was to make him believe she meant it when she was over ninety percent sure she did not, but she gave it a go.

Leaning forward a measure, she pressed her lips to his, the feeling odd for a split second before she found familiarity there. His lips were soft and reluctant at first, his pulling back only stemming from a natural disbelief of her sincerity, though it didn't take long for that to evolve. Whether she meant it or not, he did, and it was hard to keep things from progressing from her kissing him to the two of them mutually exploring one another's mouths, Jay pulling Ellie into his lap for a better angle.

It was becoming more and more obvious that there was something intricately and irreparably screwed up about their current position, about their entire relationship, or whatever one would label it. It was unique, but not in a wholly positive light, with its small comforts and major falls, some things pleasing only one of them, and some things making neither of them more happy for having done them. This was one of the middle ground occurrences where they were both happy but for very different reasons; Jay felt as though he'd won, Ellie kissing him on command, not the other way around. Ellie, on the other hand, just felt better for the human contact, the want for her she found in his kiss.

But, of course, her mind wandered. It was impossible to keep all her thoughts centered on Jay, for whatever reason, when they were on the path they were on. He was good at what he did, though it was not as though Ellie had much experience to compare it to, but somehow, her mind tended to wander to other subjects, especially that night. Her mother. Cutting. Sean. All things pervaded her calm as she attempted to allow herself to get lost in kissing Jay, if only for a momentary escape. She tried the trick her guidance counselor had told her when she found out about the cutting – repurposing the energy, focusing on something else. She replaced her other concentrations with ones of a different variety.

Mother, cutting, Sean quickly became Jay's lips, his hands, how soft he was being. Positive things at the moment, things she could tangibly feel and control just then. There was nothing else she could do about her mother, no way Jay was going to allow her to cut, and just nothing left to say about Sean. He was gone and Jay was there at the moment, the same excuse she'd used to justify these actions a million times over. Jay was just there, she'd tell Sean, if she ever saw him again. And she was sure she'd have a rough time, but she'd eventually convince herself and Sean that it had meant nothing with Jay, who she was sure would agree.

But at that moment, it meant something. It meant that she didn't have to be worried, that she truly could just escape. It meant she could be free, for just a little while, without any pressure. Or, at least, it would have, had Jay's hands not been roaming somewhat insistently.

"Be careful, princess," he warned, his mouth prying from hers to explore the sensitive skin of her neck, sending a chill up her spine, "I might start to actually believe you."

She giggled in response though his words set her nerves on alert, the deep tone to his voice one she had heard on quite a few occasions prior to that night, albeit ones she didn't care to repeat just then. Kissing was fine, and the less than prudent location of his hands, positioned over her shirt on the swell of either breast, was just stretching it, but she wasn't in the right frame of mind for sex, at all. She'd done it in that state before, but Ellie was a firm believer in that just because she'd said yes in the past, it did not map out the entire future for them in the bedroom. Tonight was a night that she just couldn't, no energy left to give in that particular department.

As if Jay had some sort of malfunction that made him do the opposite of what she wanted, she felt his hands traveling to her back, moving to lay her down. She could accept that momentarily, though she knew it was likely only a matter of time before he pushed his luck even farther. It was typical of Jay, even he knew it, to push his limits. His truth in the situation was, however, that he couldn't be sure when he was Sean in her eyes and when he was himself, leaving him in no position to waste time if it was the latter.

And, just on cue, waste time he did not.

Still kissing her, he supported his weight fully and ran his hands down her small frame, pausing to deftly maneuver the button on her jeans out of its eyelet. He seemed to be getting all green lights from her, the right signals seeming to be translating, in his opinion. She would never be sure where he got that idea from, but even as she batted his hands away slightly, he seemed to think she was merely playing a game with him.

"Sean, don't," she muttered in slight frustration, eyes still closed, as she felt a hand continue to work the button on her jeans. She hadn't even realized what she'd said, or that anything at all was wrong, until she felt Jay absolutely freeze over top of her.

_Sean._

For once, that little slip was not perfectly overlookable in his book. It had been before, in much more intimate situations than that, but those were all on different days, and their current predicament had just felt different. He had asked her, unfairly but still asked her, to prove something to him, and that had been the stage she chose for her grand reliving of some hot and heavy moment with Sean. Not with him, because it would never be with him, and it was just about damned time he saw that, in his opinion.

Straightening up automatically, he refastened the button on her jeans and moved away from her. "Just go to bed, Ellie," he ordered shortly, looking away from her. He was going to need a drink after things were said and done, and the sooner she went to bed, the less of that she would have to see.

"What, why?" she demanded, still clearly unaware of her Freudian slip. That only made it sting worse, the idea that it had truly been subconscious, and that the only time Red would ever tell Sean to stop was when it wasn't really Sean at all. It hadn't been that way in her mind, but on some subconscious level, she had once again been thinking about Sean Cameron, the boy who'd left to make a new life in Wasaga, and not Jay Hogart, the boy who'd given her so much help, that evening. Still, she was blissfully unaware of what she had said, and her happily overactive imagination assumed many things, again.

"Because I won't have sex with you?" she asked incredulously. He scoffed; if sex had been all he wanted, he would have never chosen picking her up over an infamously easy girl who'd been practically gift wrapped for him. But he'd been stupid, not just almost stupid, completely and outright brain damaged to think for two seconds that anything he could do would measure up to Sean, or even the image of him she had in her head.

"Because I don't feel like wearing a name tag to help you out, tonight, okay?" he replied icily, though once more projecting a demeanor as though he didn't care about anything, including her.

It finally dawned on her what had happened, and suddenly, there was no better advice to take than his – 'just go to bed'. Stalling for just a moment, she watched as he left the couch and waltzed into the open kitchen area, producing a bottle of Jack from the cabinet. Taking a swig, he tried to ignore the burning sensation it painted down the length of his throat, replacing the cap and grabbing his keys. Maybe Allison Kippling wasn't any busier now than she had been an hour or two ago.

"I'm going out. Don't wait up," he mumbled, grabbing his keys from the door side table. "And _don't_ do anything stupid," he added warningly, turning and disappearing out the front door of the apartment, leaving Ellie a little grateful that she didn't have to explain her slip to him, no earthly idea what she could say to make what she'd done any better. She was worried plentifully over where he was going, what he was going to do, and if he'd be okay, but after what she'd said, she was truly in position to be calling any shots.

And so, she did exactly as he'd instructed her to do, and made her way to his bedroom, falling asleep in a bed that smelled exactly like him, and not the slightest thing like Sean, wondering exactly what the hell she had done to whatever dynamic she and Jay had been working at, before.


	7. happily mistaken

ALMOST DOESN'T COUNT

Chapter Six: Happily Mistaken

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**  
This chapter is in **ELLIE'S** POV, because I just couldn't get this chapter right without going through her eyes. It didn't make much sense. I warn you, those who are not fans of fluff, this chapter is a wee bit fluffy. You'll understand later, when the happy seems to take a little vacation for these two. That's all I'm gonna say about the future, but you've been warned. ;)

Another huge thank you for all the reviewers out there! You're amazing in the best way. I hope that the story is still pleasing in a different, more personal point of view, though I'm not sure if it will stay in Ellie's eyes, for good. Give me suggestions on that!

- - -

**LAST CHAPTER:  
**"I'm going out. Don't wait up," he mumbled, grabbing his keys from the door side table. "And _don't_ do anything stupid," he added warningly, turning and disappearing out the front door of the apartment, leaving Ellie a little grateful that she didn't have to explain her slip to him, no earthly idea what she could say to make what she'd done any better. She was worried plentifully over where he was going, what he was going to do, and if he'd be okay, but after what she'd said, she was truly in position to be calling any shots.

And so, she did exactly as he'd instructed her to do, and made her way to his bedroom, falling asleep in a bed that smelled exactly like him, and not the slightest thing like Sean, wondering exactly what the hell she had done to whatever dynamic she and Jay had been working at, before.

**- - - **

I couldn't remember sleeping so well on my own after one of mother's incidents. Normally, I'd have left every window in my room unlocked and cracked so that Sean might have an easier time getting in than sneaking up the stairs or afford _me _a better opportunity to sneak out to _him_. I never understood why, but there was just something about her drinking, especially when it got violent or destructive, that shook me to a point where insomnia would set in if I didn't have someone there to protect me. I chalked it up to the room and the apartment, a place that, while it had been refurnished and updated to Jay's liking, had belonged to Sean. We had shared a bed more than once in that room, and so it only made sense to me that my subconscious worked overtime to build a dream about Sean, for me.

The hazy, dreamlike quality was gone, but I was positive I was still asleep. An arm was draped diagonally across my chest, holding me tightly to someone else, whose breath I could feel on the back of my neck. I'd always hated when Sean did that, breathed down the back of my neck while I was sleeping, but I was too afraid to move at the moment, too afraid I'd will away whatever good luck had brought me a dream like that. Dreaming of Sean didn't happen often, a rarity that I was sometimes happy didn't happen every night.

I laid there for God knows how long, poised right on the edge of waking up it seemed. The dream was so much more lucid than the ones I normally had; I could smell the person, feel the person, hear the person… But they didn't seem familiar in sleep, as Sean might have. Sean smelled like the cologne he bought at the general store, like the Old Spice shower gel he had kept in the shower. This person, however warm and comforting, smelled like alcohol, like sweat and Clubman Pinaud aftershave. Apparently, I wasn't dreaming of Sean, at all.

After another six or seven minutes, I hesitantly opened an eye. When my vision finally adjusted, the room became familiar to me. Sean's. No, Jay's, my mind reminded me. Still, it was the same room I had fallen asleep in, safe and sound. Alone, even, despite the fact that I could still feel the phantom arm strewn across my chest, a leg entangled with mine. The only rational explanation to that was temporary insanity, and I was strangely comfortable with that. My mother was crazy, Sean was apparently insane, Jay didn't seem to rank high on the list of mental stability – I was beginning to feel left out of the club.

"Too cold to swim, man," a voice lamented sleepily, interrupting the silence from beside me, the gravelly tone sending a chill up my spine. It wasn't Sean's voice, wasn't a voice I'd heard in my dreams before that moment. The husky, coarse sound of the person's voice was familiar, and in a way, frighteningly like Jay's. I slid my hand down until it made contact with the solid form of someone else's arm, not dreamlike, but unyielding and real. My heart was in my throat, and I tried to recall what had happened the night before. I hadn't been the one to get drunk, had I? It was almost impossible to tell, with the dry way my eyes rolled in their sockets and the throbbing pain in my head. Of course, I hadn't actually been drinking. I wouldn't have done something so stupid after the night I'd just been through.

I took in a deep breath, turning over slowly, fearfully although I suppose I logically already knew who I was turning over to see. I'm not sure how it came as a surprise to me when I turned over in the arms of the persons sharing a bed with me and came face to face with a sleeping image of Jay. He hadn't come to bed with me the night before, hadn't even been home when I'd gone to bed. Taking one inhale, however, I knew exactly how he'd ended up there – his breath reeked of booze, enough so to make me cringe away. Despite that one flaw, his face was a mask of calm, his lips parted ever so slightly as he mumbled in his sleep. He hadn't shaved and probably had not bathed since I'd last seen him and yet, devoid of his baseball cap and smart ass grin, I couldn't help my eyes lingering, just slightly.

But I paused – it was supposed to feel wrong that I was there, even more wrong that I was staring unabashedly at him in his sleep, wasn't it?

I again made excuses for myself. I'd simply had a long night and, again, I felt bad for him. I didn't pity him, the world implying I thought I was somehow in a much higher and mightier situation than he was, but I did feel bad. I'd hurt him somehow, for no apparent reason, on more than one occasion. In fact, I'd done so much I regretted involving Jay Hogart the previous evening that it made my head hurt to process a tenth of it, and sex wasn't even involved. It was definitely it's own special brand of messed up, and I couldn't stop myself from feeling just a little guilty over pissing him off so badly. It was especially easy not to be mad at him when he was sleeping. His mouth was figuratively shut for once, and the endless bubbling sarcasm was just shut off, so the burden of the task was a little less heavy.

Until my mind rolled around to certain instances of the night before. He'd gone out after I'd called him by another name, something I couldn't hold against him for a moment, but I couldn't help wondering what, if anything, he had done. If Allison Kippling had been involved. If they'd taken precautions. If he was still angry with me for the night before. There were a lot of thoughts that went through my mind, but I was surprising myself completely with the monopoly Jay seemed to have on them. It all related back to him somehow, for better or worse, even if I was only concentrating on what was right in front of my eyes.

I couldn't, in good conscience, just lay there and allow Jay to think he'd fallen into his own bed or better yet, into bed with his flavor of the moment. Edging away from him slightly, I nearly squeaked in surprise when his arm tightened around me, crushing me to his chest. I couldn't recall us ever having laid there in that way, peacefully and with our clothes on, and if the term didn't sound awkward considering I'd already been physical with Jay, it felt a little too intimate. I wasn't his girlfriend, he wasn't any property of mine, and I knew I shouldn't have been there like those things were mysteries to me.

Pushing away from his chest gently, I whispered his name. "Jay… Hey, Jay, wake up."

He stirred slightly, worry lines puncturing the calm that had been his face, as he heard my voice. It took a few more of the same attempts and more than a little shaking, but eventually, blue eyes peered out from behind their lids, staring at me in confusion. He had to be feeling the same way I had, wondering why his arms were entangled around me, why we were sleeping in a shared bed, at all. We'd been in beds together, but sleeping was amongst the new experiences we'd yet to have in one, and we both seemed perplexed by it.

"Ellie?" he questioned in confusion, narrowing his brows as if he wasn't completely sure who or what he was seeing there, in his bed. His eyes were bloodshot and bleary, a sure sign that he was every bit as hung over as I knew he would be, and I tried not to think about what else I'd been correct about. He ran a hand over his face roughly and examined me through hazy blue eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"You told me to sleep here. You must've forgotten last night," I murmured, feeling an uncharacteristic blush come over my cheeks, caused by his proximity and the general feel of the situation. He seemed to think over what I'd just said, trying to remember, but apparently failing. He'd no doubt gotten drunk, or worse, the night before – too much so to actually remember the small detail of having told me to go to bed. Perhaps, I thought, I should've just crashed on the couch, despite the fact that I had no logical opposition to what was going on, at the moment.

"It's _early_," he groaned in disgust, looking over at the bedside alarm – 6:02 AM. I still had time to get back to school, to go against my plan of skipping the last day before winter break and escape the awkwardness of what was going on between Jay and I, at the moment. I hadn't planned to try and brave a day at school, especially considering that the last day was typically filled with nothing but busy work and free periods, and given the way I still felt, hung over from a serious overload of emotion. For a moment, I was actually considering going to school, if only to figure out a better way to deal with the situation at hand. With Jay so close and the difference in his behavior and look, it was a bit difficult to think clearly, for whatever reason.

"I was thinking about going to class," I offered lamely.

"Red," he chided, burying his face into his pillow and saying something else under his breath. Obviously he wasn't a fan of the idea of driving me to class, that morning. I couldn't say I blamed him, considering that he probably felt like hell. It was still dark outside, and I had to admit, sleep did still seem tempting. "Can't we just go back to sleep?"

'_We_'. Funny word. The kind of word that made me swallow the knot in my throat compulsively, and yet, the kind of word I was finding I didn't mind so much, just then. It was wrong, but so was everything else; my mother's behavior was wrong, Sean leaving was wrong, my sleeping with Jay in the more figurative sense of the word was definitely wrong. One more item ticked on the list didn't seem as though it would throw the whole world out of proportion, and if I was being honest, sleeping next to Jay wasn't the most awful or uncomfortable experience in the entire world. I was already going to be in trouble for sneaking out if my mother ever sobered up enough to remember, and I'd already dug myself as deeply into a hole with Jay as I imagined was possible.

Did I really have anything to lose?

"Y-yeah, why don't we?" I agreed, nodding despite the fact that I wasn't completely sure of what I was saying. Did I really want to go down this path, again?

"Great. 'Cos I can't move, yet," he mumbled, seeming either too self confident, too hung over, or too asleep to really care what my motivation or true colors behind the answer was, and accepted it at face value. Seeming satisfied enough, he merely tossed his arm around me and pulled me back towards him from where I'd edged away, until I was flush against his chest. I breathed in his scent as he rested his chin on the top of my head, and listened to his breathing as it evening out in moments. He was back to sleep as quickly as he'd woken up.

And I wasn't long after him, not giving my mind time to process that I'd just willingly agreed to go back to sleep Jay's bed, wrapped in his arms, no less. I was getting the feeling that I'd made a big mistake, still a little too wrapped up in it to care, just yet.

It could wait until we both woke up, I supposed.


	8. for the birds

ALMOST DOESN'T COUNT

Chapter Seven: For the Birds

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**  
This chapter is in **JAY'S** POV, since I did one of Ellie's and I wanted to show where he's at with it all. The language is just a little less refined than Ellie's (i.e. our boy here has an issue with certain colorful phrases), and the chapter is sort of short, but it's mainly used as a tool to show you where everything is at and what exactly happened when he left the night before.

I'd like to ask anyone and everyone reviewing to throw out some suggestions as to what they'd like to see in the story, if they feel like it! I've got a pretty good idea of a few events that are to take place, but before, in between, and after that, I'm totally willing to stick in some reader ideas, if they grab me. I love you all like a fat kid (or anyone, really) loves cake for all the kind words and encouragement, as well!

- - -

**LAST CHAPTER:  
**"Red," he chided, burying his face into his pillow and saying something else under his breath. Obviously he wasn't a fan of the idea of driving me to class, that morning. I couldn't say I blamed him, considering that he probably felt like hell. It was still dark outside, and I had to admit, sleep did still seem tempting. "Can't we just go back to sleep?"

"Y-yeah, why don't we?" I agreed, nodding despite the fact that I wasn't completely sure of what I was saying. Did I really want to go down this path, again?

"Great. 'Cos I can't move, yet," he mumbled, seeming either too self confident, too hung over, or too asleep to really care what my motivation or true colors behind the answer was, and accepted it at face value. Seeming satisfied enough, he merely tossed his arm around me and pulled me back towards him from where I'd edged away, until I was flush against his chest. I breathed in his scent as he rested his chin on the top of my head, and listened to his breathing as it evening out in moments. He was back to sleep as quickly as he'd woken up.

**- - - **

I couldn't believe she was still there when I looked down.

Backtracking a little, I couldn't believe she'd agreed to stay in bed with me, at all. Things hadn't ended well the night before, and her agreeing to sleep in a bed that I was doing the same in had surprised the hell out me. One minute I'd been having a dream about Sean, of all people, and swimming in the lake in the middle of December, and the next, she'd been staring up at me talking about leaving. I hadn't turned on the bullshit or the charm when I'd asked her to stay, too sleepy and much too hung over to place whatever part one would call that, and she'd stayed regardless.

As much as I was trying to be logical, to remember that catching feelings wasn't necessarily a good thing with this girl, I couldn't help myself from thinking that maybe that meant something. Not that she wanted to run off and get married, but maybe that I wasn't the worst consolation prize she could've hoped for. I was getting something out of the deal, so I couldn't find my platform to complain. After all, I'd never made a big deal out of it in the past when a girl wanted to be something more than just friends, yet something less than a girlfriend to me. I didn't understand what made Red any different.

I'd gotten over the factor of forbidden fruit, her being Sean's ex-girl, a long time before that. I preferred brunettes to red heads. She didn't have much of a bullshit tolerance. She had more baggage than I typically wanted to claim. And yet, none of these reasons was good enough to chase away the fact that I liked her. '_Liked_' being the most mundane and simple way to explain how I felt. At the same time, however, I knew that there was really no use explaining it at all, whatever I felt about her. She wasn't my best friend's girl anymore, but mentally, she was having a little trouble seeing that no matter how clearly the picture was painted.

It shouldn't even have bothered me because I didn't have any great reason to care. _Especially after everything that had happened last night_, I thought. And then it hit me, like some sort of a wave. Even thought Ellie had been a royal bitch, in some aspects, it didn't seem like that was enough to make what I'd gone and done peachy. It was probably the first time I regretted fooling around with someone else, especially when I hadn't even been caught yet. In fact, I was in a perfect situation to never even have to discuss let alone feel any sort of guilty over what had happened the night before – as she was so keen on reminding me, Ellie was not my girlfriend, and I wasn't even considered in the same dimension as a boyfriend. There was no one to punish me, and yet, I couldn't help but offer to do it myself.

It hadn't been sex – not full on sex, anyway – and it hadn't been with anyone she knew, so the rush of regret for the whole thing was more than just a little unexpected for me. The only time I could ever recall feeling guilty about anything was when I had been or was going to be caught, a catch that didn't seem involved in this case as there was no one to really dole out the punishment. Still, I felt some aggravating ache of a conscience hanging around the pit of my stomach as I looked down at Ellie, curled against me and sleeping. This 'feelings' shit was truly for the birds if I was going to be feeling like trash every time I turned around and stepped on the princess's toes.

After all, _I_ hadn't called her someone else's name, the night before. That mistake had been all hers, and honestly, what was I supposed to do after something like that? I'd done damn near everything I was capable of, and still, like magic, I turned into Sean in her head. It wasn't fair, considering he hadn't even cared enough to hang out and make sure her crazy alcoholic mother didn't drive her so crazy that she kept tearing up those arms of hers, let alone care enough to come pick her up and try to take care of her. Like I even knew how to or even had to in the first place, right? My obligations to her ended where hers to me did too, which seemed to be the bedroom. Or at least, I would have liked to believe it was that simple.

But it wasn't, not by a long shot, and as I finally detangled myself from her long limbs, I was beginning to see that. My head ached like someone had hit me over it with an iron skillet and my legs felt a little like jell-o, but I couldn't just lay there in bed and marvel at Red all morning. It was a little tempting too, if only because I couldn't afford her seeing me making the googly eyes I had a feeling I was, especially not when she was awake. The last thing I really needed was to give her more ammunition for big set ups and huge let downs, like the night before.

The best and seemingly only thing to do was just to forget that the entire night prior had even happened, period. She didn't kiss me and didn't call me Sean. I didn't get drunk and fool around with some random girl _because_ of those things. It was a clean slate, absolutely.

Yeah. Right. As if those things ever worked out for me, in the first place.


End file.
